Twilight of the Dawn
by chakramchaser
Summary: Mr Kosan and Mrs Frederic manage the staff of Thirteenth Abbey, the estate of the wealthy Bering family. But what changes are afoot when a new maid is hired for Lady Myka? Basically, I dropped the Warehouse crew into Downton Abbey. I hope it's decent! Title taken from an HG Wells quotation.
1. Chapter 1

The automobile rolled down the driveway, kicking up gravel in its wake. The staff had lined up in front of the main entrance to Thirteenth Abbey, its spires and flagpoles stretching high into the cloudless blue sky. The staff was a neat and well-kempt lot, and forced to be so under the watchful gaze of Mr Kosan and Mrs Frederic– they stood at the end of the line, eyes trained on the approaching automobile.

"It's time," Kosan said to Mrs Frederic as the motor rolled to a stop in front of the line. Next to him, Mrs Frederic inhaled deeply at the sound of bickering coming from inside the cabin of the car. The chauffeur hadn't even opened the doors and already Lady Tracy's lazy yet curiously insistent complaints could be heard.

"Prepare yourselves," she warned, looking to her right to ensure that everyone was in order. Artie needed no supervision, having been His Lordship's gruff yet professional valet for several years. The footmen, Pete and Steve, looked presentable, standing tall and still with their bowties and vests appropriately straight. Pete's face seemed to be masking a laugh, though, as he tended to get in a humorous mood at precisely the wrong moments. Next to him stood Claudia, looking uncomfortable in the starched black maid's dress and white apron and cap.

"I still don't see why I have to wear this getup just because we're missing a house maid," she muttered, fidgeting and tugging at the sleeves.

"It won't be for much longer, and that red and white rag of a frock you wear in the scullery won't do for busying yourself upstairs," Mrs Frederic admonished, shooting Claudia a glare as the chauffeur moved to open the door of the car. "And now, I would advise you to be still and silent if you know what's good for you."

No sooner than the words were out of Mrs Frederic's mouth, the entire staff either bowed or curtseyed as the Bering family poured out of the automobile. Lady Tracy was first, stepping gracefully out of the car and looking over her shoulder at her mother.

"But I simply must have a new frock," she said, sounding vaguely bored. "The ones I've got simply haven't the charm for Sir Thomas."

"If Sir Thomas can't make do with the new frocks we already purchased in the hopes of impressing him, he certainly won't change his tune with one more." Jean Bering emerged from the car behind her daughter, shaking her head in concern. "If he hasn't proposed by now, perhaps it's best to set our sights on someone else. It won't do to waste time."

"Is a little silence too much to ask?" Lord Warren Bering's exhausted and irritable request came from inside the car before he himself did. "You've discussed nothing but Tracy's prospects since we left London…"

As soon as his boots hit the ground and he joined his wife and daughter in walking towards the house, the staff leaped into action. Mrs Frederic was at Her Ladyship's side inquiring about anything she might need in her room and what to have set out for luncheon, Kosan was on His Lordship's trail and Artie on Kosan's, while Pete and Steve began to unbuckle and remove the luggage from the back of the automobile. And in the flurry of activity, the last member of the Bering family emerged from the motor almost unnoticed, but for the chauffeur who held out his hand to help her down– Lady Myka, dressed in a plain cream dress with a matching hat perched precariously on the mess of curls piled on her head. Book in hand, she smoothed her dress and made her way slowly to the entrance of the Abbey. Pete caught her eye as she passed and he nodded in greeting.

"I trust your trip was productive, my lady," he inquired genially. Myka smiled ruefully.

"For Tracy, perhaps," she answered with a sigh. "It's good to see you again, Pete. It's been a long two weeks."

Pete nodded deferentially, falling into step behind Lady Myka with suitcases in hand as they walked into the Abbey and the door closed behind them.

* * *

"I don't understand what the delay is," Lady Bering said as Steve placed a bowl of soup in front of her. "Myka has been without a lady's maid for weeks now, and poor Claudia must be working her fingers to the bone in the kitchen and keeping house upstairs."

"Mother, I really don't mind," Myka interjected, nodding in thanks to Pete as he served her soup. "I can manage on my own, Claudia doesn't have to help since she has so much to do already."

"Oh, nonsense–" Jean began, but Mr Kosan interrupted.

"If I may, my lady," he said, "it is my understanding that Mrs Frederic has completed an interview with a candidate for the position and found her quite suitable. She simply awaited Your Ladyship's consent before sending for her to start."

Lady Bering looked over at her husband, who shrugged noncommittally as he tucked into his soup. "Whatever's needed," he muttered. Lady Bering smiled and nodded at Kosan.

"Send for her as soon as possible," she said. Kosan nodded his assent and turned to leave the room. The soup course was passed in silence until the footmen began to clear, at which point Tracy turned her attention to Myka.

"What did you think of Lord Colclough, Myka?" she asked. "He certainly showed a great deal of interest in you when we went to call on him."

"He's a nice man," Myka said, shying away from the conversation in anticipation of what would no doubt follow.

"Well, perhaps we should invite him to the Abbey for a visit in the future," Tracy said, looking at her mother for approval. Myka shook her head, though.

"I– I don't want to give him the wrong idea." Tracy furrowed her brow.

"Myka, it's time to start thinking of these things!" she said. "Perhaps if you weren't so bookish you wouldn't have to settle for a man like Colclough. Nice or not, he's certainly not the 'cream of the crop' as it were. Perhaps you should–"

Myka stood up abruptly. "I'm finding myself exhausted from the travel," she said weakly, casting her eyes down. "Please finish without me, I'll say goodnight…" With that, she hurried out of the room and her family was left to listen to her footsteps echo up the staircase.

* * *

"You've been such a help, Claudia. It really wasn't necessary." Myka sighed, gazing disinterestedly at her reflection in the mirror of the boudoir as Claudia braided her hair for the night.

"It's nothing, my lady," Claudia dismissed the remark, tying the braid off with a ribbon. "I'm glad to do it. Not to sound ungrateful, but the scullery can get a bit tiring with only Mrs Frederic and the stove to converse with." Myka smiled as she stood and walked over to her bed.

"You don't sound ungrateful at all," she assured her, pulling back the covers and climbing in. "You just want to do something more than what you are. Everyone has dreams."

"And what are yours, my lady?" Claudia said, but realizing her nonchalance she quickly added, "If it's not overstepping to ask, that is."

"No, don't worry," Myka brushed it off, settling in under the covers. "I don't know what my dreams are. I mean, definitely not to just be someone's wife. If that's what I'm destined for, though, I can't be bound to just anyone. But I don't have the energy to shoot for the moon like Tracy does with her new frocks and flaunting and flirting..."

"Maybe if you're destined for the moon, you won't have to go looking for it. Maybe _it _will find _you_." Claudia suggested, blowing out the candles around the room on her way to the door. The room became pitch dark, but not before Claudia caught Myka's smile in the shadows.

"Yeah," Myka replied in a faraway voice. "Maybe you're right."

"Well, that does it." Claudia opened the door to leave. "Sweet dreams, my lady."

"Claudia." Myka said, and the maid looked over her shoulder.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Thank you." Myka was sincere, grateful for more than just help with the bedtime preparations. Claudia nodded humbly and shrugged.

"As I said," she answered, shutting the door as she left. "It's nothing."


	2. Chapter 2

The woman stood at the servants' entrance to the Abbey, clutching her oversize carpet bag and looking upwards to contemplate the grand building before her. It was rather intimidating, she admitted to herself, but she screwed up the courage and headed inside with a resolute sigh.

She was greeted by a hallway with doors on either side leading to various storerooms, pantries and sitting rooms of the housekeepers. The hallway opened into a kitchen bustling with activity, pots steaming on the stove and a petite girl with flyaway red hair hurrying about tending to them. The woman cleared her throat timidly, but the girl took no notice– she had spilled something on her hands, and was busy wiping them off on the apron she wore over her faded red and white striped dress. Louder, the woman cleared her throat again and the girl looked up, eyes wide in surprise.

"New maid?" she asked simply. The woman nodded.

"Helena Wells," she smiled and held her hand out in greeting as the girl approached her. She took it and shook, Helena noting that her own hand now carried the sticky residue of whatever the girl had spilled.

"Claudia," the girl introduced herself, starting down the hallway and motioning for Helena to follow her. Helena did so, discreetly wiping her hand off on her coat as Claudia stopped abruptly at a door on the left side of the hallway.

"Mrs Frederic will take care of you in there," she said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a custard on the stove that's going to burn any second." With that, she took off towards the kitchen at a run and Helena smiled to herself. Then, turning to the door, she knocked lightly.

"Come." A stern voice came from within, and Helena pushed the door open. She saw a tall, dark woman sitting behind a desk, a log book open before her. The woman looked up.

"Miss Wells." Helena nodded in confirmation.

"Mrs Frederic, it's a pleasure to be here." Helena stepped into the room and clutched her carpet bag tighter. Mrs Frederic rose behind the desk, shutting the log book.

"Welcome to Thirteenth Abbey," she said, turning around and opening the doors of the armoire behind her. She took three frocks out of it– two green ones with a small floral pattern and one black one– and handed them to Helena.

"First, to get business out of the way," she said. "The green ones are to be worn during the day for making up the beds and cleaning in the morning and afternoons. The black one is to be worn in the evening during dinner service and readying Lady Tracy and Lady Myka for bed. And here are your aprons and caps, to be worn at all times." Mrs Frederic took a pile of starched, pressed white linen and placed it on top of the folded dresses. "If you ever appear in an unclean uniform, you will immediately be sent to change."

"Of course, I would expect nothing less." Helena nodded, and Mrs Frederic pursed her lips.

"Good," she said. "Now follow me, if you please." She bustled past Helena out the door and Helena hurried after her, tucking the new uniforms under her arm. As they passed the kitchen, they heard Claudia bickering with someone. A woman about Claudia's height with unruly brown curls sticking nearly straight off her head stood in front of Claudia, wearing a jacket and laden down with baskets.

"But I didn't buy any more apples," she was saying in an exasperated but not unkind tone of voice. "And I needed those for the tart tatin!"

"The custard was just begging for the apples, though. Berries alone were too boring!" Claudia protested emphatically. The other woman's eyebrows shot up.

"So my food is boring, is it?" she said incredulously.

"Claudia, go back into town and buy some apples for Leena," Mrs Frederic said as she passed through the kitchen. Leena turned and nodded in thanks to Mrs Frederic, then caught Helena's eye.

"New maid?" she asked exactly as Claudia had.

"I'm Helena," Helena called out over her shoulder as she followed Mrs Frederic around the corner and up the stairs.

"Leena, I'm the head cook! It's nice to meet you!" Leena's voice rang through the hallway as Helena ascended. Everyone seemed relatively friendly, she thought, perhaps with the exception of Mrs Frederic. But seeing as she was in charge of an awful lot of things in the house, that wasn't exactly a surprise.

"Who else is on the staff here?" Helena asked conversationally, resisting the huffing and puffing of her lungs as they continued to climb the stairs.

"Mr Kosan is the butler," Mrs Frederic said, turning abruptly and opening a door for Helena. "Arthur serves as His Lordship's valet, and the two footmen are Peter and Stephen. They are all absorbed with their duties at the moment, but you'll have the opportunity to meet them at dinner." She hurried ahead of Helena once again, down a very long hallway. When they came to a closed door, she stopped.

"This is the barrier between the men's and women's quarters," she explained seriously. "It is kept locked at all times, and only I am allowed to turn the key." And as she did so, the door swung open. She motioned for Helena to enter first.

"Your room is second on the right," Mrs Frederic instructed. Helena continued down the hallway and pushed her door open cautiously.

The room had two single beds, each made up neatly. There was one table with a mirror, presumably to be shared by the occupants, and two small armoirs on opposite sides of the room. There was a modest window with plain muslin curtains, and candlesticks at various places around the room.

"Normally you would share this room," Mrs Frederic said as Helena walked inside. "However, since Claudia and Leena are content to continue sharing and we are still short another maid, it seems that you have the luxury of some privacy."

"How exciting," Helena said, grinning and setting down her carpet bag and uniforms on the bed on the left side.

"Indeed," Mrs Frederic said, somewhat unenthusiastically. "In any event, you have the afternoon to unpack and settle in. You will be ready to be presented just prior to the evening meal wearing the black dress."

"And what time is the evening meal, then, Mrs Frederic?" Helena said, opening her carpet bag and looking over her shoulder in nervous attention.

"Soup will be served promptly at six thirty," she said, her expression softening slightly as she contemplated Helena's knit brow. "Please know that we are glad to have you here, Miss Wells. I do hope you'll find yourself comfortable with us."

"Oh, I already have," Helena assured her. "Thank you." And with that, Mrs Frederic closed the door and left Helena on her own.

* * *

Helena smoothed down her apron calmly and raised a hand to her head to be sure her headdress was affixed firmly. Mrs Frederic looked her up and down.

"Let's go," she said. Helena nodded and followed her up the stairs and down an ornately decorated hallway. They stopped at a set of double doors.

"You'll do fine," Mrs Frederic offered Helena an unexpected assurance, and Helena nodded as Mrs Frederic threw open the doors.

"Your Ladyship," she greeted her with a small curtsey. "The new lady's maid, Miss Helena Wells."

Jean Bering looked up from her place at the dining table and met Helena's gaze.

"We do hope you will find yourself happy and useful here, Miss Wells," she said genially. Helena curtseyed and kept her eyes low.

"Thank you, Your Ladyship, it is my honour," Helena replied modestly. Satisfied, Lady Bering turned back to the table to make introductions.

"Across from me is His Lordship," she said unnecessarily, as he was the only man at the table. Helena curtseyed in the general direction Lady Bering was pointing, still keeping her eyes down.

"Our eldest daughter Lady Tracy," Lady Bering continued, gesturing next to her and Helena curtseyed again. "And our youngest, to whom you will be attending, Lady Myka." Helena chanced a glance up and was dazzled by the elegant young woman sitting before her.

Her eyes were inquisitive and sparkling green, and her dark chestnut hair was gathered and pinned neatly on her head. A few ringlets had escaped, though, and fell gracefully about her face. She wore a beautiful but understated dress, the same green as her eyes and adorned with roses of beads and gathered fabric. Her lips curved into a smile as she nodded in acknowledgement of Helena. Helena promptly dropped her gaze yet again, and curtseyed slightly deeper.

"I look forward to serving you, my lady," she said.

"Thank you, Helena," Myka answered, her voice like cheerful bells in the heavy atmosphere of the dining room. When Mrs Frederic nodded to dismiss Helena, she hurried back down to the kitchen and sat at the table.

"Impressive, isn't she?" A voice sounded from behind her, and the person it belonged to emerged into her sight soon after. A tall, smartly-dressed brown-haired man sat beside Helena.

"Who?" Helena asked.

"Lady Myka," the man said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Pete, the first footman."

"Pleasure," Helena said as they shook hands. "And yes, she is impressive. They all are."

"Good people, too." Pete picked up a biscuit from the platter on the table, but dropped it promptly with a shameful look on his face after catching notice of the valet.

"Smart move." The rough reprimand came from a short man with greying curls, as he hurried across the kitchen holding a decanter of wine.

"Come on, Artie, just one!" Pete protested, standing up to follow him out of the room. Helena laughed softly, picking up a biscuit herself and nibbling on the edge.

* * *

Dinner passed as usual, and night fell peacefully. The servants were gathered around the table in the kitchen, spending their final waking hours of the day chatting and relaxing. Claudia sat with Steve gesticulating excitedly about something or other, Pete was badgering Artie, Leena sat with a Ouija board and Mrs Frederic stood in the corner talking with the tall, bald man with a menacing stare she gathered was Mr Kosan. They had not been formally introduced, but process of elimination didn't make it too difficult to identify the rest of the staff. When one of the bells on the wall rang, everyone looked up and saw the swinging pendulum indicating that the bell had been rung from Lady Myka's room.

"It appears you are needed, Miss Wells," Mrs Frederic called out briefly, before returning to her conversation with Kosan. Helena stood and fiddled with the corner of her apron.

"The first true test," Leena smiled at her from the other end of the table. "You'll be fine." Helena nodded gratefully and swallowing the beginnings of her anxiety, she headed up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you ready for bed, my lady?" Helena poked her head into the bedroom. Lady Myka stood facing the door, an open book in her hands. She raised one finger signalling for Helena to wait a moment, and half a minute later she shut the book and set it on her vanity.

"Forgive me," she said, beckoning Helena in. "I wanted to finish the chapter."

"No trouble at all," Helena said, shutting the door behind her as she entered. "And what was it that captured your attention so?" Helena asked.

"Jules Verne," Myka said, positioning herself to allow Helena to undo the buttons at the back of the green dress. "I love science fiction. It's so interesting to think about how impossible all of those inventions are."

"Maybe not forever, though," Helena said as she finished unbuttoning the dress. She reached up to slip it off Lady Myka's shoulders, her thumbs brushing across smooth skin as she did. Helena watched, enraptured, as goosebumps appeared in the wake of her hands. She helped Lady Myka step out of the dress, and then hurried to the armoire to hang it and retrieve one of the soft white nightgowns. Lady Myka was deep in thought when Helena returned to her side– she was chewing her lip absentmindedly and staring at the candle perched by the side of her bed. Helena rested her hands gently on Lady Myka's waist, pulling her out of her reverie as she began to work at the laces of the corset she wore.

"Do you really think any of that could ever be developed? The science fiction, I mean," Lady Myka asked vaguely, cinching in her waist and letting her breath out in a hiss as Helena loosened and unlaced the corset. "It's just that everything in those books has the potential to turn completely dystopian. I have trouble imagining that kind of technology doing much good for us, much less ever being invented."

"Oh, on the contrary," Helena said, quickly whisking off the corset and lowering the nightgown over Lady Myka's head. "I can easily see many of those technological advances well within reach, my lady."

"You think so?" Lady Myka turned around to face her maid, fidgeting for a moment under the nightgown before stepping out of the slip she had on and handing it to Helena.

"Absolutely. I have the utmost faith in the human intellect." Helena's voice took on a faraway quality as she turned to replace the slip in the armoire and close its doors. "Someday we'll make it past the stars, I'm sure of it."

"It's nice to think so." Lady Myka sat down at her vanity and began to unpin her hair. Helena made her way over slowly, prolonging the venture so she could study the woman in the mirror. Even with this simple task Lady Myka's eyes were straight as arrows in focus, and her fingers moved deftly and expertly as she unravelled her hair.

"Let me, my lady," Helena said, finally reaching the vanity and clasping Lady Myka's hands gently and lowering them to the surface of the table.

"Please, enough with that, okay?" she looked up indignantly, meeting Helena's startled eyes in the mirror. "I don't mean to be abrupt, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just… I'm still deciding, but I think I like you and I don't want to have any of that 'lady this' and 'lady that' garbage. If you're going to be dressing and undressing me every day, we may as well be friends instead of master and servant." Helena let out a short huff of surprised laughter and raised her eyebrows.

"Well, what shall I call you then?" she asked, continuing to pick pins out of Myka's hair and marvelling as the bouncy ringlets fell loose one by one. Myka shrugged.

"I have a name same as you, Helena," she said, raising one eyebrow as a grin tweaked the corner of her mouth. "Might as well use it."

"Alright, Myka." Helena tried it out, smiling at the feel of the sound slipping off her tongue. With the last of the pins out, Helena began the finicky task of gathering Myka's hair and tying it off neatly for the night.

"So how do you like it here so far, Helena?" Myka asked, watching with a distinct, but not unkind, amused expression as the woman struggled to keep the unruly curls in place.

"I'm still getting over the nerves," Helena admitted, slowly getting the hang of Myka's hair and weaving it into a braid.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Myka assured her. Helena nodded.

"Oh, I know. It's just–" Helena's soft voice faltered suddenly, and she lowered her eyes as they became clouded with something dark that Myka couldn't identify. When she looked up again, though, her expression could not have been more normal. "It's just been a while since I've been working."

"Oh." Myka became inexplicably embarrassed, her cheeks colouring. But Helena seemed quite content to keep chatting as if nothing had happened.

"Quite honestly," she continued, reaching for a ribbon to tie off the braid, "you've rather set me at ease. If I may say, you were very charming standing there in the middle of the room with an open book, completely lost to the world." Myka laughed at the comment and the glint in Helena's eyes as she delivered it.

"I'll admit that wasn't very proper of me," Myka commented wryly, raising her hand to feel the braid now lying flat down her back. "But books really suck me in."

"I understand completely," Helena said, stepping back from the vanity and moving to turn down the covers of Myka's bed. But Myka stood up quickly and rushed over.

"It's okay, I'll do it myself." She smiled at Helena.

"Are you sure?" Helena said with concern. "I'm perfectly happy to."

"No, it's okay. It's been a long day for you." Myka climbed under the covers and blew out the candle next to her bed. "Go to sleep, Helena."

"Alright then." Helena smiled warmly at Myka, then made her way around the room extinguishing the candles that remained. When she finished she lingered for a moment at the door, staring into the shadows where other woman lay. "Goodnight, Myka," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Helena," the reply came from the dark, as bright and friendly as ever. Helena smiled to herself as she turned and closed the door quietly behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Myka studied herself in the full-length mirror, smoothing down the lace at the collar of her empire waist dress. The white fabric was speckled with a pattern of blue-grey flowers in varying sizes, and the sleeves ended mid-forearm. Helena had fastened a thin navy belt around the seam of the dress just under Myka's bust, and Myka was pulling on white gloves with little blue buttons to match. As she fixed the finishing touches, Helena stood behind her fussing with the flowers on Myka's straw hat.

"Is this alright?" she asked, approaching to show Myka the hat. Three small roses, the palest shade of pink, were arranged just atop where the brim curved upwards. Myka smiled and took the hat from Helena, placing it carefully over her hair. Helena had bound it up at the nape of Myka's neck that day, and the hat fit easily over it without disturbing a curl.

"Perfect," Myka said with a smile, turning to face Helena. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, Myka," Helena answered with a smile and a small bow of her head. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Myka said. "Go and get changed, you're coming with me."

"To– to the flower show?" Helena stammered, taken aback by the uncustomary request. Myka nodded simply, taking her book from the top of her vanity and heading towards the door.

"Yes, we should familiarize you with the town since you're newly arrived. Besides," she said in an exceedingly casual tone of voice as she fiddled with her glove, "I enjoy your company."

"So, I guess that means you've decided you like me?" Helena's eyes glinted and Myka shrugged noncommittally.

"I guess." A shadow of a smile came across her lips as she opened the door. "Now go change. I'm going to go convince Mama to let you come along."

"You're quite sure?" Helena confirmed, brow furrowing. "I really shouldn't intrude if I'm not supposed to be coming along. In fact, I'm certain I shouldn't be."

"Oh, stop it." Myka gave Helena's shoulder a gentle slap. "I want you along. Now, for the third time, _go change_." Helena nodded and smiled, Myka grinning back as she headed through the door.

* * *

Having seen Myka off down the staircase, Helena hurried up the stairs to the servants' quarters. She burst into her room and rummaged in her carpet bag for the nicest skirt she had brought with her and had not anticipated needing. She pulled it out, relieved to see it was relatively crease-free and presentable. It was simple– floor-length, cotton, no frills, a muted yet cheerful green. Helena changed out of her maid's uniform and put on a plain white blouse with the skirt. She took her hat in hand, simple and unadorned straw, before taking a steadying breath and reaching into the single, small interior pocket in her carpet bag for the first time since she had arrived.

She pulled out a gold brooch, the face of it white enamel with delicately painted red, pink and blue flowers emerging from thin greenery. Helena stood absolutely still, caressing the brooch for several seconds, her face masking something heavy but her eyes betraying it. She seemed lost in the memories the brooch held when suddenly, a voice startled her out of her melancholy.

"You're all dressed up." Claudia stood in the doorway, her red and white dress not yet soiled from cooking. "Skipping out on us so soon?"

"On the contrary," Helena forced the corners of her mouth upwards, blinking the dull expression from her eyes and quickly fastening the brooch at her neck. "Lady Myka has requested that I accompany her to the flower show." Claudia raised her eyebrows in surprise, but nodded in approval.

"Very nice," she said, nodding in approval. "You must have impressed her."

"Well, I certainly hope so." Helena shrugged and smiled sweetly, setting her hat on the bed and rummaging once again to find the matching coat for the skirt. When she pulled it out of the carpet bag, though, she was dismayed to find that the shoulder seam had frayed. "Bollocks," she muttered, bringing it closer to inspect the tear. Claudia strode over, taking the coat unceremoniously from Helena's hands and inspecting it.

"I can fix this in two minutes," she said confidently, looking up at Helena for permission.

"Would you?" Helena asked, her face twisted in worry. "I've always been rubbish at mending."

"Well, we'll have to rectify that at some point," Claudia said, beckoning for Helena to follow her as she headed out the door and into the room she shared with Leena. It was cozy but neat (Leena's side of the room tending more towards the latter than Claudia's). Claudia's small bedside table was strewn with screws, wires, twine and spare metal parts apparently retrieved from the garage, which she shoved aside casually as she searched for her small sewing kit.

"Er, what are those, exactly?" Helena asked. Claudia sat on the bed, pulled a needle and green thread from the drawer in the table and began to thread it.

"Nothing important," she muttered. "I've just been tinkering with a few things."

"What sort of things?" Helena continued to prod, images of Jules Verne's creations flashing through her mind… Myka would be fascinated.

"Oh, just some things... I'm trying to incorporate electricity into this one, it's supposed to be an automated flue cleaner for the fireplace in Lady Bering's bedroom but I can't quite get the circuitry right."

"That's incredible!" Helena exclaimed, leaning over the table to inspect the loose pieces of the machine. "And what else have you done?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that," Claudia said through her teeth as she bit the excess thread off the end of the knot and began to sew the jacket. "I'm almost done a hair curler for Lady Myka, you can try it out next week."

"And it won't catch fire or anything?" Helena said, cautiously eyeing some faint scorch marks on the corner of Claudia's bedside table. Then, the jacket was dropped into Helena's lap and Claudia stood up from the bed.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," Claudia said, raising her eyebrow dramatically and patting Helena firmly on the back. "Now go on, it wouldn't do to keep Lady Myka waiting, would it?"

"Certainly not." Helena pulled on her newly mended jacket. She glanced quickly in the mirror and, satisfied with her appearance, hurried out the servants' quarters and towards the entrance hall where Myka was waiting.


End file.
